


Belated Awkward Teen Moment with Added Background Music

by RiaTheDreamer



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Humor, M/M, set in blood gulch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 04:31:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13287039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiaTheDreamer/pseuds/RiaTheDreamer
Summary: “If you want to catch my flu just snuggle with my used napkins or something. I’m not kissing you just so you can get a day off work.”But Grif just rolled his eyes. “Simmons, I’m not paying you for some snickering high school girl’s two seconds’ worth of lip-contact. I want full tongue action. I’m aiming to be sick for at least two weeks, so I need your precious germs to work.”





	Belated Awkward Teen Moment with Added Background Music

 “No.”

“C’mon.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Simmons, help your fellow man out here.”

He wiped his nose for the twenty-fourth time that morning and wondered when the base would run out of tissues. He dreaded that day. “It can’t be an act of generosity if you’re paying me to do it,” Simmons pointed out, carefully folding the tissue without looking at the greenish mess his nose had caused.

Grif tilted his head. “Does that mean I don’t have to pay?”

“Wha- _No_. I am not doing this,” Simmons huffed and crossed his arms. He shouldn’t have to deal with this. First of all, he’d been unlucky enough to catch the flu, and despite Blood Gulch being far from the perfect sterile environment to recover in, his coughing had eventually subsided and his fever had disappeared. Now he was just nursing his running nose.

Not that his teammates had been any big help during his suffering. But they’d tried, at least. Well, some of them had.

Donut had made him herbal tea and offered to share his fashion magazines so he had something to kill time with. Sarge had ordered him to stay in bed and not die (such touching words that Simmons would forever treasure) because the planned attack next week required at least three meat shields and Sarge wasn’t keen on sacrificing Lopez just yet when he’d just polished him (some less touching words that Simmons would still remember nonetheless).

Then there’d been Grif who’d been acting like he was the one dying just because Sarge had ordered him to take over Simmons’ duties while he recovered.

And now he was whining again, almost grabbing Simmons by his chest plate in desperation. “But _whyyyyy_?”

“Because it’s stupid,” Simmons replied flatly. “In fact, this might be the most idiotic thing you’ve ever done, and that’s counting the time you almost choked to death trying to beat your record of how many Oreos you can stuff in your mouth.”

“24.”

“Impressively disgusting,” Simmons said without missing a beat. “If you want to catch my flu just snuggle with my used napkins or something. I’m not kissing you just so you can get a day off work.”

But Grif just rolled his eyes. “Simmons, I’m not paying you for some snickering high school girl’s two seconds’ worth of lip-contact. I want full tongue action. I’m aiming to be sick for at least two weeks, so I need your precious germs to work.”

Maybe his fever wasn’t quite gone yet. Simmons felt his face turn worm when Grif said _‘tongue action’_. He crossed his arms, turning his head to glare at the base in the distance instead of Grif. He’d ventured out here to get some fresh air – not for Grif appear and come with this outrageous suggestion.

“I’m not kissing you. I know where your lips have been. That bagel you ate for yesterday’s breakfast had _mold_ on it.”

“Hey, your lips have been all over Sarge’s ass, so you really shouldn’t complain.”

Simmons narrowed his eyes – and not just because his nose was staring to tingle again. “You know what – I’m gonna go take some cough syrup and nose spray and then I’ll have a long nap so I can wake up all healthy again.”

“Lies. You haven’t taken a nap since the day your mother left you bored in the crib.”

“Just forget it, Grif,” he said before having to cough into one of his remaining tissues.

He was about to go back to the base when Grif’s hand wrapped around his wrist, making him freeze. “Two vintage _Blade_ comics, Simmons. Originals. You know they are worth it.”

Simmons pulled himself free but turned around to stare at him. “ _Where_ did you even get those?” he asked, genuinely curious because Grif was right – those comics were worth a lot. At least to Simmons. Now the question was just if they were worth his dignity and well-being of his lips.

“Some kid in high school made a bet that I couldn’t have 23 Oreos in my mouth.” Grif took a step closer, entering Simmons’ personal space to get in his face. “You know you want them, Simmons. All I’m asking is a little favor. No one will have to know. Seriously. We tell no one. I don’t want us to be Donut’s new gossip case.”

Simmons raised an eyebrow. “So we just – what? Kiss and don’t tell?”

Grif nodded with a strange, serious expression on his face. “Exactly. We exchange germs and goods.”

Just that sentence made Simmons curl his toes. But he imagined how perfect those comics would look with his collection back home – because they were of course being sent home at some point, and just how long did they have to stay in this canyon again? No matter what, the comics would at least grant Simmons some amusement.

He sighed, feeling his dignity being stolen away by this stupid canyon. What was next? His sanity? “Those comics better not be stained,” he warned him because he hadn’t seen a single one of Grif’s items that hadn’t been covered with crumbs or disgusting stains and spots.

Grif set his jaw. “Hey, I’m already overpaying you for this.”

“ _Overpaying_!” Simmons almost choked on the word. “I have the right to be expensive. I could kiss anyone in the gulch if I wanted to.”

“Simmons,” Grif said, staring at him.

“Theoretically.”

“ _Simmons_ ,” Grif said again, not blinking once.

He admitted defeat by sighing deeply. “ _Fine_. So, how are we doing this?”

Grif frowned and something devious slipped into his expression. “Please don’t tell me this will be your first kiss.”

“Pfft, _no_.”

And then he sneezed, so sudden that he didn’t even had the time to fish out a tissue.

Grif took a step backwards to avoid their heads smashing together. As if Simmons didn’t have enough of a headache already.

“Great,” Grif said with a small smile on his disgusting lips, “‘cause I’m expecting some professional work here.”

“Uhm, what do you mean by professional-?”

“Sarge has been talking about doing an aerial attack on Blue Base next week. Simmons, we don’t have a ship. I’m pretty sure he’s asking us to jump of the cliff with homemade parachutes.”

Was that why Sarge had been so happy when Simmons had declared himself fit for duty this morning? Simmons widened his eyes. “Oh god, is that what Donut has been sewing? I thought he was making a new apron.”

 But of course that couldn’t be the case – Donut already had 17 aprons in different shades of pink, some with more bows than others.

Grif nodded grimly. “Clearly, I have no choice but to take these drastic measures. So,” he took another step closer, “you ready to fill me with your taint?”

“Wha-“ Simmons was cut off by another coughing fit. “Not now!” he said when he finally had some air in his lungs. “I- I need to prepare.”

“Prepare what?”

“ _Things_ ,” he hissed. “You know. We can’t just do it. Here. Now. Gimme an hour.”

Grif opened his mouth, looking like he might argue, but then he just shrugged. “Alright, fine. Whatever. Just be sure not to get better in the meantime. I’m paying for your bacteria.”

“But a flu is a virus- _Never mind_. Just meet me in our room in an hour.” As he began to walk away, Simmons remembered one important detail and yelled over his shoulder, “And _brush your teeth_.”

“That wasn’t in the deal!”

* * *

Simmons didn’t spend the hour panicking. Instead, he spent the hour carefully planning what to do and then coming to the conclusion that he had no idea of what to do. Then he began to pace back and forth, but he was definitely not panicking.

He made his bed – and then he proceeded to make Grif’s bed, because Grif never made his bed, and if Simmons would ever see Grif’s bed being made, he had to do it himself.

Then he went to put on some music – because there had to be music, right? It’d be weird just doing it in silence. Especially when Grif requested tongue movement, and dear gods, what if you could _hear_ the slippery sounds?

Music was the best option. Definitely.

Maybe it wasn’t optimal that Simmons only had one album downloaded, and that album happened to be the _Star Wars_ soundtrack. At least Grif liked _Star Wars_. It’d work. Right? It’d work. Probably.

And that was how the hour passed, and suddenly Simmons was about to receive his first kiss with _Darth Vader’s Theme_ playing in the background. It was somewhat fitting. At least it was better than any song Donut would have suggested.

Grif showed up right on time, which was just weird, and made Simmons even more antsy, if that was physically possible.

“So…” Simmons said, looking at his feet.

“So,” Grif said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah…”

“Alright.” Grif smacked his lips together, making a noise loud enough for Simmons’ head to snap upwards again. “You ready for your belated awkward teen moment?”

“Shut up,” Simmons said, and it was hot in here again. Or was it the fever? He felt hot, nonetheless. In the awkward sweaty way. He hated this. “Did you brush your teeth?”

“Are you blushing?”

“Let’s not ask stupid questions,” Simmons said before coughing. He’d left his tissues on the table, so he had to cough into his elbow instead. Which just meant he’d have to take a bath later. This was a disaster.

But Grif’s eyes widened at his suffering, and he smiled. “Ooh, that’s all I’m asking for. Alright, Simmons, sweep my legs away and cough into my throat.”

“Shut up,” Simmons said again, throat tickling. He thought of the comics, and how good they’d look on his shelf, and he definitely didn’t think about how Grif’s dark eyes were sparkling with smugness or how nice that deep brown color actually looked up close.

He could feel Grif’s breath on his face, and to be fair, it didn’t smell as bad as he’d feared. Instead there was something sweet to it, and a faint smell that he recognized as coffee. Grif had probably spent his hour snacking, instead of panicking and trying to decide whether or not the _Star Wars Soundtrack_ was suitable for this.

But it was still playing and Grif hadn’t turned it off, so that had to be a good sign.

“Remember,” Grif said, pupils adjusting in size as he focused on Simmons’ mouth, “I paid for tongue action.”

Sweat was running down Simmons back, and he could still smell coffee and for some reason it wasn’t disgusting, despite the heat and how stuffed Simmons’ skull suddenly felt.

“So _shut up_ ,” he said, and got it over with by slamming his lips against Grif’s.

The taste matched the smell, actually. Sweet and with a hint of coffee. Simmons’ tongue searched for every flavor, sometimes stumbling into Grif’s tongue so that they seemed to embrace, and Simmons finally pulled away, face flushed and wondering why he hadn’t gagged yet.

“Maybe,” he said slowly, licking his lips. His head felt like it was stuffed with warm cotton. His voice seemed dazed as he tried to understand why it had felt good when it should have been wrong and disgusting. They must have done it wrong. Or maybe he hadn’t gone too far? It was probably Simmons’ fault, since he wasn’t exactly… experienced. “I did that wrong. We should try again. You know. To make sure. That I got it right. Yeah.”

Grif was staring at him. “That’s, yeah…” His brown eyes were dazed and unfocused, flickering to the wall behind him. “You know, I did pay you so I deserve-“ Grif’s face had _felt_ warm while _it_ had happened. Was the fever already spreading?

But wasn’t that the point of it all?

Grif leaned forward this time, tongue searching for Simmons’ germs, and Simmons’ tongue searched for the faint taste of coffee and sugar, and something warm lingered on Simmons’ neck for a moment, but Grif withdrew his hand when they both pulled back, red-faced and satisfied.

The melody changed behind them, having reached the climax before ending, and a new song begun, tones softer.

Grif finally looked up at him again, gaining eye-contact. He was wearing that stupid smug grin again. “Are you sure you got it all? I think you might-“

And then Simmons, without warning, sneezed in his face.

Grif blinked, frozen.

“Yeah,” Simmons said, smiling softly as he watched a drop of spit falling from Grif’s nose. “I think I got it all.”

**Author's Note:**

> For the lovely Sxpaiscia for being an awesome friend. This is a very, very late birthday gift that can now also work as a very late Christmas gift because I am just very late... I hoped you enjoyed! <33
> 
> And the rest of you: enjoy this fluffy grimmons piece. Fluff is a rare treat from me these days, and now I need to write some angst to make up for it.
> 
> As always: English isn't my native language so I apologize for any mistakes, and you can find me as riathedreamer on tumblr.


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